Chapter Twenty-Five: The Baishui River Shop

This must have been the sound of Qin Fei’s shotgun, drawing them over. Yet even as the zombies were attracted by the noise, not one of them broke into a run—or perhaps it was simply that they had lost the ability. In this, they matched the settings of the game: unless it was nighttime, these creatures would not run during the day.

Facing these sluggish zombies, Qin Fei simply stepped out from behind his car and walked directly toward them. Once close enough, he aimed at the head of the male zombie and fired. At such close range, missing was impossible. The shot felled the male zombie instantly.

Next to him, a female zombie, grotesquely bloated, took two rounds to bring down. Qin Fei’s box of shotgun shells held only five rounds in total—four had now been spent to dispatch these three zombies, leaving him with just one. The loss stung.

With the immediate threat eliminated, Qin Fei entered the convenience store attached to the gas station. To guard against any half-dead zombies suddenly rising to attack, he dragged a bench from outside and wedged it across the entrance, though he was careful not to block the door completely—should there be any undead lurking inside, he needed an escape route.

The interior was a wreck: food wrappers, empty bottles, and other debris littered the floor. Other than a few cans of beer, Qin Fei found nothing edible. But even beer was a fortunate find—after all, one bottle contained as many calories as a bowl of rice, making it a surprisingly effective source of sustenance.

Moreover, beer in this game world granted status bonuses:

[Canned Beer: Melee Damage +300%; Stamina Recovery +50%. A good beer fortifies you with energy, courage, and immunity to dizziness.]

On the counter near the entrance sat a cash register, where Qin Fei found some copper coins and a few bills.

[Duke’s Casino Chip: After the outbreak of disease and war, these copper coins became the primary currency in Navigan.]
[Old Banknotes: Once legal tender, now only valued for their paper.]

There were about a hundred of the casino coins in the register.

After looting the gas station, Qin Fei continued along the road. After walking another kilometer or two, he found himself near a small town—one with a distinctly Western atmosphere, full of houses. On the streets, he saw a few zombies aimlessly wandering the main road.

From experience, Qin Fei guessed there were far more zombies in the town than those visible. No doubt, behind the doors of those houses, countless undead awaited him.

The zombies would not run, only shuffle along. The open spaces outside gave Qin Fei a speed advantage; as long as he kept his distance, he could easily dispatch them in the open. But inside the houses, it was a different story—if he found himself surrounded by zombies lurking within, escape would be nearly impossible.

So, he did not rush to scavenge inside the homes. Instead, he circled the outskirts of town, intending to observe a while longer.

One house, in particular, caught his eye. Surrounded by a cement wall studded with iron plates and entirely encircled by barbed wire, the defenses were formidable. The wall stood over three meters high, and below the wire, layers of wooden caltrops had been piled in two full rings around the perimeter.

At the heart of the enclosure stood a house with a white flag on its roof. Painted in red were the words: "Baishui River Store."

This familiar sight... Qin Fei recognized it immediately—wasn’t this the in-game shop?

In the game, the shop was invincible, and its defenses were never so extravagant. After circling the wall, he approached the entrance. The door was made of two massive slabs of iron, looking impenetrable. Above it hung a plastic sign depicting a man holding an axe, next to the words: "Traitor Joles."

At the bottom of the sign, someone had added in red paint: "Cut the crap! No money, no entry!"

Qin Fei couldn’t help but feel a little speechless at the bluntness. Were all survivors so direct in the apocalypse?

He had barely lingered at the gate when a man appeared atop the wall. He looked to be in his forties or fifties, his face covered in a thick beard. Sporting a leather jacket and a cowboy hat, he cradled a machine gun in his arms. The look was an odd mix, to say the least.

A cigarette hung from the man’s lips. He did not step out from behind the gate, but instead regarded Qin Fei from above, taking a deep drag and blowing smoke in his direction.

“Outsider?” he called.

In this world, both speech and writing were in Chinese.

Qin Fei looked up. “Can you let me in?”

“Got any money?”

“Of course!” Qin Fei reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of copper coins, and shook them for the man to see.

The man squinted, then nodded at the glint of coins. He flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, crushed it underfoot, and turned to shout back toward the house, “Boss, we’ve got a customer!”

Moments later, a young woman in jeans appeared atop the wall. She was strikingly curvy, her tight jeans accentuating her figure, though her face was unremarkable. She looked to be no more than thirty.

Qin Fei noticed a battered stethoscope hanging from her ear and a green medical kit at her waist—she seemed to be a doctor.

As Qin Fei sized her up, she examined him in turn. Spotting the handful of coins, she frowned. “Is that all the money you have?”

The disdain on her face was hard to miss—Qin Fei felt awkward. “About a hundred coins. Not much, I guess…”

She scoffed, “And you think you can come here with so little? We don’t welcome paupers.”

Qin Fei felt a pang of helplessness. It seemed no one in this world was easy to deal with. He turned to leave.

“Wait,” the woman called, seeming to reconsider. “Want to join us?”

Qin Fei was taken aback—she wanted him to join?

On reflection, if he did join them, with the defenses of this shop, he might just survive the next fifty days.

After a moment’s hesitation, Qin Fei agreed. “Of course. Are you recruiting me?”

“That depends on your skills!” the woman called back. She pulled a white cloth from her medical kit and tossed it down.

“This is a map of the area around the shop. There’s a clinic marked on it. Bring me back a bottle of penicillin from there—shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

It was a test.

But Qin Fei understood—no group in the apocalypse would take in someone useless. If he wanted to join, he’d have to prove his worth.

He considered a moment, then nodded his acceptance.